Black Requiem
by OldSmoke
Summary: When Soul Edge goes missing, Siegfried Schtauffen begins a quest to destroy the evil blade. Complete.
1. A Cold Day

Ordinarily he wouldn't have been caught dead in a backwater like Saxony, but he was here on personal business. His personal affairs were _always _worthwhile. 

It was your typical farmhouse you see everywhere throughout the Holy Roman Empire. He had located this particular one with great difficulty. The Germans were a cold people, unwilling to share their secrets with simple travelers like him. Well, he'd taught them some manners. He patted Nirvana's hilt.

He was walking towards the front door when he suddenly stopped and closed his eyes. He could hear the laughter of a young boy, a boy who'd had a happy childhood. A boy who loved and idolized his father. He smiled. Yes, this was the place all right.

He reached forward and knocked at the door with a white hand. It would have been a simple matter for him to shatter it but he didn't. How chivalrous of me, he thought. 

The door opened a crack and a sliver of a woman's face looked out at him. 

"Who are you?" She asked after a few moments of silence. 

"You are Margaret Schtauffen, Siegfried's mother, yes?" 

The eyes widened. She pulled the door open. Standing there was a middle aged woman. Her forehead was creased with wrinkles and her blonde hair was greying. She wore a stained white apron over simple peasant clothing. Typical German, he thought. A sneer began to spread across his face. She didn't notice. 

"Siegfried? You know about my boy? He hasn't been home for four years now!. Do you know where-" He reached into his cloak. 

"Tell him-" he grabbed her by the neck and plunged the blade into her midsection. He stared into her desperate eyes as he spoke: "-that Cervantes de Leon wants his sword back." He threw the limp body forward and left quickly. The German countryside was too cold for his liking. 


	2. Respite From a Nightmare

Siegfried.

__

Who are you? 

You can go home now, Siegfried. 

__

How do you know that name!? 

It's been many years, hasn't it? 

__

I can never allow Soul Edge to used again. I am it's guardian for eternity.

You don't need to worry about it anymore. 

__

It must be nice to be ignorant of the blade's power. 

And where is your precious blade now? Go home, Siegfried. 

He opened his eyes. His hand touched his forehead. It had been so long since someone had called him by the name his mother had gave him. 

But it was only a dream. Nothing more. 

He sighed and stood up. The temple looked the same. It hadn't changed once since he and the sword had taken up residence there. How long ago was that? Siegfried gave it some thought and quickly gave up. He'd lost count. Numbers weren't his strong point any way. 

His memories started to come back. They always did. He brought his hands to the sides of his face. His breaths become short and rapid. He remembered the terrified expressions of the young and old as he cut them down. He remembered how he'd never heeded a plea for mercy- not once. He remembered how the burning villages filled the air with the smell of roasting meat- a smell that had made him salivate. He remembered his lieutenants Ivy and Astaroth, and how they'd formed an unholy trinity of death and murder. He remembered- 

_Where is your precious blade now? _

Siegfried gasped. He stood up and dashed to the chasm where he'd discarded the sword of nightmares. He swallowed and peered over the edge. 

Soul Edge was gone. 

This is your fault, he thought. It will be your fault when the new owner begins to annihilate entire armies and peoples to feed the blade. Their blood will be on your hands. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest. He could feel his eyes growing watery. Siegfried sobbed. 

After several hours he stood up. He marched to the back of the temple where he slept in and grasped the hilt of his old sword Requiem. It wasn't as heavy as Soul Edge. It reminded him of Faust, the blade he had used when he had successfully sought the sword of legend. 

He tightened his grip on the hilt. He knew what had to be done. 

"Never again," He whispered. 


	3. Old Friends

Mitsurugi sighed. Another long, hot day that had failed to produce a lead on Soul Edge's whereabouts. Night had fallen, which meant welcome relief from the Mediterranean sun. He could see the inn he used as home base on top of the hill and illuminated by moonlight. As he trudged up the incline the Samurai's mood turned reflective. This was his third search for soul edge; his third attempt to claim the sword of legend and best the rifle. His thoughts turned to the duels and battles he had fought in those three tries- his allies and rivals… 

The innkeeper stared at him for a few moments (Japanese were highly uncommon in Europe) but accepted his money. The samurai made his way to the inn's tavern and sat down. The room's crackling fireplace bathed the area in a dark orange hue. He was about to take his first drink when a familiar voice interrupted him. 

"Mitsurugi." 

"Hello Taki," he answered without turning his head. He and the Ninja had encountered each other more than a few times over the years, both in Nippon and abroad. 

She was seated across from him. Taki grinned.

"Strange, isn't it, how fate brings people together? I assume you again seek the demon sword?" 

"Your assumption would be correct." 

"Wonderful!. It wouldn't be the same without you, Heishiro. Come to think of it, I know that Voldo and Seung Mina are I the search again." 

"Mina…the Korean girl?" 

She nodded. 

Mitsurugi looked at her with scorn. 

"Why are you so pleased, ninja? This isn't a get-together with old friends. You and I may very well end fighting each other over possession of the blade-" his eyes narrowed. "…and that is not a battle I am going to lose." Taki didn't answer. Mitsurugi decided to exploit the opening. 

"You remember Li Long, and the ugly fate he met at the hands of Cervantes. A shame he's not returning as well, no?" He took a sip of his ale. Taki folded her arms. 

"I'm well aware of Soul Edge's power, thank you. You forget it was I who defeated Cervantes- just as I will defeat you if I have to."

Mitsurugi gritted his teeth. She changed the subject. 

"There was another warrior…he wore armor and wielded a two-handed sword. Do you remember his name?" Mitsurugi managed to put aside his wounded pride and searched his mind. 

"He had hair the color of gold and talked endlessly of finding his father's killer… his name was see…Siegfried!" His hand moved to his chin and he assumed a thoughtful expression. "Whatever became of him? He showed great promise as a warrior." The ninja woman shrugged. 

"He disappeared right around when the azure knight first began his rampage across Europe." Mitsurugi nodded. 

"One of his victims, no doubt." Both of them were silent for several seconds. Taki spoke first. 

"Well Heishiro, it's been nice catching up on old times but there are some things I must attend to this evening- some lizardmen were spotted near this village. I'll be watching- you know how we are." Mitsurugi said nothing as she left. The samurai sighed. _Ninjas, _he thought disdainfully as he ordered a second drink.


	4. Daydreaming

He could remember how, during his youths him and his playmates would see things like noble knights, grand castles and wicked sorcerers in the shape of the clouds. Those days were forever gone. clouds were the farthest thing from Siegfried's mind as he stared into the sky. He was lying in a grassy field with his hands folded behind his head, his mind wandering. There was not a house or any other sign of civilisation for several miles. Every so often the wind would softly blow and rustle the tree leaves. It smelled of earth and clean air.

His thoughts settled on a woman he knew several years ago- Sophitia Alexandra. The Greek warrior and he had only met once- and they had not parted as friends. 

_"Stubborn Amazon, why do you ask me these things?" Siegfried demanded. The woman's face didn't change. She held out her hands in front of her- a gesture of appeal and patience._

"You've heard the tales- Siegfried, wasn't it?- The Soul Edge is a weapon surely forged by the hands of a god who despises the human race. You're making a mistake, a mistake you may never be able to undo." 

"Your tales of caution are unwarranted," he sneered. "'Tis the wielder of the blade that commits such heinous acts. Only the most superstitious of heathens could believe that a sword has a will of it's own." He held out an iron-clad fist in front of him. "I am good Christian who loves god. Even if Soul Edge is charmed with foul sorcery The Lord will send his angels to protect me". He was on a roll. He could feel the adrenaline flowing in his body. A part of him wanted to strike down the swordswoman and be done with it. How dare she question him. "Once I avenge my father's death with the blood of his killer," he continued, "I will have no more use for the blade and discard it. Does that satisfy you?" 

She didn't flinch throughout his rant. 

"This killer you seek…what does he look like?" 

"What?" Her question had thrown him off balance. 

"What are the physical features of the man who killed your father? Siegfried looked at the ground. What was this uncertainty he was feeling? He looked at the woman straight in the eyes and summoned his resolve. 

"A foolish question only a woman could ask! He is tall…and wears a scheming expression…and…and…" He paused. Why couldn't he…? His fists clenched. He could feel the anger building. In a single movement he unsung Faust from his back and slashed at the woman. She was several feet away from the blade when it whispered thought the air. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. 

"I am going to leave now. Do not follow me or I will be much closer when I swing. Good bye, Sophitia Alexandra." He turned and stomped off into the forest. 

What a hothead he'd been! Of course the killer he'd wanted so badly was none other than himself. He only had to fall on his blade to accomplish his goal. 

No. Self-murder was a sin. 

His thoughts turned to Sophitia. Her long hair the color of ripe wheat, her blue eyes…He wondered if it was possible to- 

"Hello?" 

A voice. Female. Who-? 

He snatched requiem lying beside him and sprang to his feet. As he did he cursed himself. How could he let himself be snuck up on like that? Then he saw the owner of the voice. A woman. Blond. Blue eyes. 

Could it be? 

"Sophitia?" 

She blinked and looked him over. 

"That is the name of my sister." She answered. He could feel suspicion in her voice. "Who are you and how do you know her?" They certainly looked alike. Her hair was shorter than Sophitia's and she wore leg stockings while- 

"Are you going to answer?" Her voice brought him back to reality. He swallowed. Had Sophitia ever mentioned his name to her sister? Probably not but still…His closed his eyes for a moment. Forgive me father, he thought. 

"My name is Fredrick. I encountered your sister when our paths briefly crossed while searching for the legendary blade Soul Edge," he lied. Not exactly an airtight story but I'll have to stick to it, he silently vowed. He noticed for the first time that she bore a short sword and shield, just as her sister had. Her blade's point looked very sharp. If he squinted he could see his reflection in it. 

"Very well, I am Cassandra Alexandra." She paused. "You seek the sword as well…," her voice trailed off, then returned. "For what purpose?" He didn't expect her to ask for a reason. He racked his brains. 

"Um, well, you see…" Think, Siegfried, think! He commanded himself. "I want the sword so I can…can…rule the world! Her jaw dropped. 

"Huh?" 

He smiled- a very rare occurrence. "That's right. The peoples of the world need someone with the power and determination to unite them. With Soul Edge, I will become this man." She didn't say anything. 

"Well then, if we have nothing more to talk about I will be on my way. Farewell, Cassandra." He turned his back and began to walk of further into the field away from her. He breathed in to sigh in relief- 

"Draw your sword." 

He spun around. Her blade was pointed directly at his chest. Her face was set in determination and she had assumed a fighting stance. The experience was like being dunked into the icy waters of the Rhine. 

__

"What…? What is the meaning of this? You and I have no quarrel," he stammered. 

__

"First of all, I can't allow you to continue your quest for Soul Edge. It sets even the mildest man on a tortured quest for blood and souls. 'Tis a fate worse than death and I will save you from it by ending your quest here." 

__

"You're a little late for that," he muttered to himself. 

__

"What did you say!?" 

He gave the girl a look of raw bitterness. "Nothing." She continued. 

__

"Secondly, I cannot allow to continue with your delusions of world conquest." She stared at him straight in the eye. "Greed transforms men into rabid dogs, frothing for money and power. Where I come from, mad dogs are destroyed without pity. Draw your sword, Fredrick."

"This is madness. I refuse to fight you." Her expression didn't change. 

"Then kneel and close your eyes. It won't hurt. I promise. " Jesus, she's serious, he thought. The wind began to blow and oddly, he was fascinated with how the wind played with her hair. By the time he noticed she was dashing forward he barely had time to raise Requiem. *Ting!* He deflected the blow but just barely. He staggered and nearly fell backwards into the grass. Before he had a chance to regain his balance Cassandra struck again. *Clang!*" This time he did fall, and the metal on metal vibrations nearly shook the sword out of his hands. I'm out of practise, he observed disdainfully. 

A flash of silver in the corner of his eye. He rolled to the side- *Thump!* Her thrusted sword was buried in the earth up to it's hilt. No more games, he vowed to himself. He assumed his fighting stance and moved closer- 

She stared at him blankly, her sword and shield hanging limply at her sides. 

"Whatsa matter?" He asked confusedly after she made no motion to resume the battle. 

"Your stance…," she answered in a dreamy tone. He squinted at her. 

"Yeah…What about it.? 

"You hold your sword horizontally and away from you. My sister, Sophitia," she blinked and stared at his face. "She said that Nightmare held the Soul Edge the exact same way." 

Note: You're probably saying to yourself, "Um, how could Sophie know how Nightmare held the Soul Edge when the storyline says it was Xiangua who fought and defeated him?" Well, just pretend she watched the battle from a distance or something, mmkay?_  
_


	5. The Trial

It felt like ice had shot through his belly. His mouth went dry. No…no, please, God, don't let her… he pleaded silently. He didn't know what to do. Cassandra stared at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He swallowed and closed his eyes. Part of him wanted to run away, away from this blonde swordswoman who was so close to unmasking him. Another wanted to get on his knees and plead with her to be leave him alone. Then the rational part of his mind kicked in. He opened his eyes. Siegfried had an answer. 

"All warriors who use the Zweihander style hold their swords as I do. The likeness between…Nightmare and I is coincidence. A terrible coincidence but one nonetheless." Would she accept his offering? Her expression went blank. Then her eyes narrowed. 

"My sister also once told me how she once encountered a blonde German named Siegfried who used a Zweihander. No one has heard of him since the Azure knight appeared." Her hand went to her chin and she began to speak with mock curiosity. "Fredrick holds his sword like Nightmare. Fredrick looks like Siegfried. Siegfried vanished when Nightmare appeared. Soul Edge adapts itself to the style and weapon of it's user." She looked upwards at the sky and tapped her chin. "Hmm. Could it be…?"

*Clump.* Siegfried dropped Requiem. Cassandra saw the motion and followed the sword's descent. It was too late when she saw Siegfried coming. He grabbed her shoulders and head butted her as hard as he could. He heard a loud *smack* sound. His vision blurred briefly. She fell. 

He stared at her prone body. In a few hours she would regain consciousness and certainly tell the world his secret. Everyone who'd lost a loved one to Soul Edge's romp would be after his blood. No. He couldn't have it. He walked over and picked up Requiem. It felt strangely heavy in his hands. He marched over to Cassandra's form. All I have to is bring it down, he told himself, and I'll be safe. His mouth was dry. He started to raise the sword.

He noticed his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes. He had to bury his emotions. It was for the best. Requiem was at his chest level. A strike from there would certainly kill the girl. He prepared himself. A tear leaked out of an eye closed tight as a fist. He flung his sword to the side and began to pant. He sat down and held a hand to his forehead. No, he thought. I'd be no better than Nightmare if I did it. Again he walked over and picked up Requiem. "Goodbye, Cassandra Alexandra. May you and I be far apart when you awaken," he said over his shoulder.

*******************************************************************************************

Siegfried was surrounded by darkness. How had he got there? How could he leave? Hands. He couldn't move his hands. He looked down. His wrists were bound together by…he peered closer. Human hair. He looked in all directions. Only more darkness. He had no idea whether he was on some sort of surface or floating in the air. Then there was a voice. A familiar voice.

"It shall be known to all that Siegfried Schtauffen, son of Fredrick and Margaret Schtauffen, is accused of committing countless murders and other acts of destruction while under the influence of Soul Edge. As his savage acts have excluded him from the ranks of civilized society he has no need for a legitimate trial. I await the verdict." Twelve voices spoke. 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"Guilty!" 

"As expected. He shall be shamed until the end of his life. Goodnight" A tall figure in blue appeared in front of Siegfried. The deformed hand… 

Nightmare. Siegfried felt powerless. With his human arm he removed his helmet. Siegfried was staring back at himself. Every part of the face was identical. The scar, the green eyes… it smiled at him. He was disgusted.

His bonds snapped. Siegfried rushed forward. He didn't have a weapon. He didn't care. "I'll kill you!" He screamed. 

He woke up with a gasp. He was still in the cave where he'd made camp for the evening. The dream was fresh in his mind. "Soul Edge," he vowed. "I'm going to kill you as have killed me."


	6. Coming Home

Siegfried shivered. He hadn't remembered it ever being this cold. He didn't stop. His legs were sore from traveling, away from the girl who had figured out his secret. In front of the dirt road he was using there was a large green hill and just beyond it his home. He could remember running down it as a boy, the farmers on the road to the market. 

Going up was more difficult than he anticipated, not just because of the weight of his armor and Requiem on his back, but because of his state of exhaustion. When he finally triumphed he sat down on the hilltop and surveyed the countryside. The grass of the fields was a dark brown. Winter was coming. He could see his home in the distance if he squinted. 

He placed his hand on the door and paused. What would she say? Would she embrace him as her son? Or…? He noticed several indents on the door that he didn't remember. He pushed it open. There was only silence. 

"Mother…?" he called out. He half-expected her to come down the stairs and give him a motherly hug. She would tell him how much everyone had missed him, and scold him for making her worry for all those years. No one answered. 

It was too cold. His mother usually kept a fire going to keep the house warm on a chilly autumn day like this. He walked several feet inside and peered at the fireplace. It was empty. 

"Siegfried!" It was her- no mistake! She was upstairs. Siegfried grinned. His mother was unharmed, thank god. He ran up the stairs, his iron boots making a noisy clanging sound as he did. He dashed to her room and opened the door. 

Nothing. Her bed was empty. His fear returned. He walked into the room and looked around. No sign of her. He walked across the room. The bed- a simple cot, looked like it hadn't been touched in months. He walked to the window opposite the door. She wasn't in the fields. He ran a finger across the sill. Dust on his gauntlet finger. 

"Here you are." He spun around. 

Astaroth. The six-foot tall demon guarded the exit with his axe, a menacing instrument that had competed with Soul Edge for the souls of humans. 

"Just like he said you would. I've been waiting for you. As you came closer and closer, the smell of Soul Edge grew stronger." 

"Astaroth. I was wondering what became of you. Why are you hanging out in a backwoods farmhouse?" 

"Per his orders." 

"Whose?" 

The giant lifted his axe and spun it so that the he now held it in both hands. Siegfried unsung Requiem from his back and held his at his side. 

"The new bearer of Soul Edge. Well, no so new, really."

"Really. Did I mention that you're an freak of nature that needs to be Annihilated? 

"Likewise. 'Cept you're not a freak since you're a human and then it wouldn't make sense…" 

With impressive speed the behemoth dashed forward and smashed him the face with the flat of his blade. Siegfried reeled back, seeing stars behind his closed eyes. A hand closed around one of his feet. Oh no, he thought. He seen Astaroth do this to opponents. *Brack!* The giant had swung his body right through the wooden wall. When he opened his eyes, he saw he was at the top of the stairs. Astaroth climbed through the opening he made, taking care to brush the falling wood particles of his muscular body as he did so. 

"C'mon Sieggy, I'm gonna be really disappointed if you made me wait all this time and don't bother to put up a fight." Siegfried struggled to his feet. He lost sight of Astaroth for a moment, which was long enough. A hand from behind closed around his golden hair. Then he was airborne for a moment before hitting the stairs. He felt every step on the way down and landed in heap at the bottom. 

"Heads up!" The demon's voice called. Siegfried rolled to the side just in time to avoid being decapitated by Astaroth's axe. He ran out the door. The behemoth calmly pulled his axe out of the floor and walked out after him, taking care to briefly duck his head under the door frame. 

"Siegfried! You like candy, don't you? Well the big man's got plenty so come get some!" Astaroth roared. He waited for a response. There was none save for the rustling of the autumn leaves. He'd lost track of Siegfried for some time and was growing impatient. He began to walk to the side of the German's house to search that particular area for what, the tenth time today? 

He heard a noise behind him and then…something large swinging through the air. 

*Shick!* 

The giant's body was cut in half. Astaroth's torso fell to the ground while his lower half confusedly continued walking for several moments before toppling over. Siegfried stood over him. The monster began to curse in his hatred.

"Aw, Jesus! No way! Cheap bastard. First that pirate and now you. Damn." 

Siegfried's expression didn't change. 

"Where is Soul Edge?" 

Astaroth's features hardened in concentration. 

"That place there, uh…how's it go….'the rain falls mainly on the plain in vain', no, in Spain! That's where he is." 

"Cervantes…" Siegfried whispered. 

"Anyway, I'm gonna be back be. This isn't the first time I've been sent to hell. The dark lord and I are good buddies, Nightmare. I'll tell him to expect you." Then both halves of his body vanished and were no more. 

******************************************************************************************** 

He knelt. 

"I'm going to stop it, mother," he said before the Schtauffen family tombstone. His mother's name was there and looked to have been added recently. He stood up without moving his gaze. "I'll make you proud." He turned and walked out of the small country cemetery. Behind a tree, a blonde swordswoman watched him leave.


	7. Escape From a Nightmare

The Spanish town hadn't changed over the years. The collapsed and ruined buildings, empty streets and feeling of dread were exactly as Siegfried remembered when he came seeking the sword of legend. It was cold, overcast day. His body still hurt from the fight with Astaroth. As Siegfried trudged towards the port memories he thought he'd forgotten began to surface… 

__

"This is the sword of heroes?" 

It didn't look like much. It was reddish in color and struck Siegfried as being smallish in size. He looked around him. The people in a nearby village had told him they'd heard a fierce battle being waged in this town. The German had been bewildered to find it empty. The Pirate ship he was standing on looked to have been recently damaged. There were cut marks on several parts of the deck and dark splotches of what looked like blood. 

Siegfried looked at the Soul Edge. He reached for the hilt-

The sword leaped into the air like a jerked puppet and was right in front of his face. There was a sudden flash of light and Siegfried covered his eyes… 

He turned around a street corner and there it was. The Adrian- the famed ship of Cervantes himself. A wooden boarding plank led upwards to the ship's deck, like an invitation almost. 

"I accept," Siegfried said out loud. He approached the plank. 

__

The flaming demon shrieked in pain as Faust pierced it's chest. Siegfried pulled back and waited to parry his foe's next attack. He stared in amazement as it began to float in the air while writhing in pain. He brought his sword up in preparation for a aerial attack. The demon was then sucked through some sort of vortex and he suddenly again on the ship deck. He'd won. 

Soul Edge descended from the sky gracefully like a gift from heaven and landed on the floor with out a sound. Siegfried dropped Fausted and walked towards the blade. It's image filled his eyes. Nothing else mattered. Father would be avenged. He'd won. Without hesitation Siegfried grabbed the sword's hilt. 

The first sign that something was wrong was when his hands went numb. He tried to open them and drop the sword but couldn't. It was as though Soul Edge had fused itself to him and was now a natural part of his body. His mouth opened and his eyes widened with fear. He was afraid. Then it got worse. A material akin to…diseased brown skin began to spread from the blade's hilt, over his hands, past his arms, on his body…about to reach his face. He screamed. 

"Father!!!" 

Siegfried sighed. If he had known what was going to happen he would have taken Faust and smashed Soul Edge right there. Now he had returned to where the nightmare had been born to do exactly that. 

He surveyed the deck. It was identical right down to the blood splotches. He removed Requiem from his back. 

"Cervantes! Reveal yourself!" 

There was silence for a few seconds. Then he saw a shadow growing larger on the floor of the deck opposite where he was standing. A black shape landed without a sound. It was the Dread Pirate himself. Although his back was turned he began to speak. 

"Oh dear. I was hoping Astaroth would take care of it. It seems even that task was beyond him." 

"I've come here to tell you something. I've come to tell you that the story of the legendary blade Soul Edge and the Dread Pirate Cervantes will be ending today." 

Cervantes turned around. He was no longer a man whose white skin told of his death and resurrection. He now possessed the complexion of a healthy man who'd vigorously pursued life. In fact, he looked quite common- except for the eyes. They were very red. 

In either arm he held one of the Soul Edge blades. The wind began to blow and ruffle his cape and pirate cap. 

"You are mistaken. Our story's just beginning. He smiled- a set of white flawlessly white teeth. "You'll be flattered to know that as the only one to ever use the sword and recover his humanity, you're the only one who's a serious threat to us." A familiar voice spoke inside Siegfried's head. 

__

Do you remember me, Siegfried? 

"That voice in my dream, it was you!?" 

"Us," the pirate corrected. "I and the sword formed a stronger bond then you ever did. I was always aware of it's location so it was quite simple for me to discover where you were hiding it. I reclaimed it and became whole once more," the pirate said. He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky. He held both arms away from his body. He was clearly relishing the completion of his goal. "I then told you to return home so that Astaroth could do away with you." 

Siegfried's resolve remained strong. 

"Do not forget that you two are fighting for your lives." He'd startled the pirate. 

"What!?" 

"Stronger bond none withstanding, looks like Soul Edge never told you it's secret. Inferno, the manifestation of the blade itself, has been destroyed twice. Once on this very spot by myself and again by the Chinese girl wielding Soul Calibur. Each time it emerged from a different sword. What you are holding are two swords that lack the source of it's resiliency. If they are shattered again, they will pass forever from the stage of history."

Cervantes looked at the ground and didn't answer. He began to tremble. Then- 

He was charging at an impossibly high speed towards Siegfried. *Smack!* He was knocked backwards several feet. He quickly rose to his feet. Cervantes was right over him. Siegfried sidestepped around to Cervantes' side and slashed low with Requiem. Cervantes parried but momentarily lost his balance. Siegfried took advantage of this and smashed the pirates face with Requiem's hilt. Cervantes fell backwards. Siegfried rushed forward. All he had to do was bring Requiem down and it would be finished. He reached Cervantes side- 

The pirate suddenly stood up on a knee and thrust his right blade into Siegfried's side. 

The German retreated. The pain, it was like something was eating away at his flesh. It was too much. He fell to his knees. Cervantes stood up and seemed much more powerful and fearsome. 

"Well now, this will make two generations of Schtauffens I've sent to hell." He cackled. Then Siegfried realized it. 

"You…you killed mother?" Cervantes grinned. 

"Indeed. A pity a strapping young man like you never put a loaf in some barmaid's oven. Then I could've made it three. Oh wait," The pirate said with mock horror, "isn't that how you were conceived?" 

Siegfied's wound no longer hurt. He stood up and in one movement slashed and knocked one of the blades out of Cervantes' grasp. Then he drew Requiem back and thrust it deep into the pirate's midsection. A horrible screeching sound filled the air. Cervantes began to tremble and convulse terribly. A circle of blue light appeared on the ground where he was standing. It began to close. When Cervantes's circumference could no longer accommodate the squeeze his body became distorted and impossibly thin. When the circle closed in on itself it and the Dread pirate were gone. 

Requiem clattered to the ground. Siegfried snatched it up and without hesitation smashed the two Soul Edge blades, first one then the other. His hand opened and dropped Requiem. He stared at the sky, his mind blank. He didn't what to say, what to think, to feel. It was done. 

Something long, narrow and sharp pierced his armor and buried itself deep within him. He gasped and fell. Who- 

"Take that, Siegfried Schtauffen. It is a bitter ending for you to perish here, so close to your goal of reclaiming Soul Edge and again wreaking terror across the innocents of this world." Cassandra. With great pain and effort he turned onto his back so he could see her. Her expression was without pity or remorse. She looked into his eyes and sneered. but he could feel himself growing distant from his surroundings. The pain of his wounds suddenly vanished. He could feel something pulling him away. The image of the contemptuous woman faded from his eyes and he saw no more. 

Siegfried became afraid. He felt he was going somewhere very fast to an unknown destination. Suddenly his feelings of uncertainty and unease were relieved. The darkness was replaced by light of calmness hope and charity. He could see he was standing in a place that was very good. A moustached man clad in armor was in front of him. He came close to Siegfried and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Son, I'm proud of you." 

*************************************************************************** 

Cassandra noticed something on the ground by her foot. She knelt and picked it up. It looked to be a sword hilt. The blade part seemed to have broken off. Then she recognized the markings. "This was…Soul Edge!" she whispered. She looked back at the dead boy. "Did you do this?" she asked. 

Cassandra then realized what she'd done. 


End file.
